baby, i'm so into you
by flowermasters
Summary: Steve and Peggy's plans for the evening are derailed by Howard, in the strangest possible way. Bodyswap AU.


A/N: This is pure crack and shameless fluff, but I figure the Steggy fandom could always use more of that. But seriously, this is a hot mess and purely for fun.

Warnings: bodyswap trope, AU, some language, implied sexual content.

Cheesy title is cheesy.

* * *

Peggy is particularly immersed in her latest report, which is currently in progress, and only glances up briefly when a knock comes on her office door. "It's open," she calls, before immediately directing her attention back to her typewriter, fingers never ceasing their movement.

The door opens and someone enters and shuts it behind them, but it's only when they don't announce themselves that Peggy pauses, fingers lingering above the keys, and looks up. Standing in front of her desk, with his arms crossed loosely behind himself and an affectionate half-smile on his face, is Steve. Peggy wouldn't admit it, not even to Steve, but the mere sight of him is enough to send her mood from professional to giddy as a school girl. "Steve," she says by way of a greeting, giving him a smile of her own as she immediately rises from her chair and walks around to the other side of her desk.

She wraps her arms around his broad shoulders and, lifting up onto her tiptoes, presses a kiss to his mouth. He kisses her back, one arm coming around her middle to pull her in close, and Peggy spares a moment's grateful thought to whomever made the decision to put frosted glass windows on all the office doors, as opposed to transparent. She's not sure anyone could possibly fault her for taking the opportunity to kiss Captain America, but she's also not sure anyone could take her seriously afterwards if they saw her doing it in her office.

After a moment, she pulls away slightly, her professional instincts kicking back in. She doesn't leave his embrace, however. "Welcome back, soldier."

"It's good to be back, especially with such a warm welcome."

Peggy smiles up at him, and then asks, "Well, how did it go? No injuries, I trust?" She would have already heard if any complications had occurred on Steve's trip to the West Coast, but she knows as well as the next person that Steve isn't always forthcoming when it comes to mentioning his own injuries, if he actually manages to obtain any. At first glance most would call it pride, but Peggy knows that Steve simply doesn't like to cause a fuss.

Steve's expression goes from pleasant to thoroughly down in the dumps at the mention of his mission. "No reason for any injuries," he says. "Our leads up and disappeared. All in all, it was a wasted trip."

Peggy sighs. She hates to see a mission go sour as much as Steve does, but she supposes it's best that it ends like this, as opposed to turning violent and out-of-control. "Well," she says, with an attempt at optimism, "no mission is truly wasted. We'll just have to work harder, and smarter, next time."

Steve offers a wry smile. "Back to the drawing board, then?"

"Indeed."

After a moment's pause, Steve seems to remember something. He raises his hand - the one that isn't currently rubbing absentminded circles against the small of Peggy's back - and reveals a folder. "Here's my field report," he says. "Even though there's really nothing to report on."

Peggy rather reluctantly lets go of him and takes the folder, finding it disappointingly slim. She places it neatly on the corner of her desk, to be read and filed away at a later time. If the mission had been an abject failure as Steve seems to think, then there's no real rush. "Say," Steve says, rather hesitantly, "are you about finished up here?"

Peggy raises an eyebrow at him as she walks back around her desk and takes her seat again. "I have a field report of my own to finish," she says, indicating the typewriter. Trying not to smile, she asks, "Why, did you have something in mind for the evening?"

Steve smiles back at her, although Peggy still notes a hint of what looks like nerves in his expression. "I did, as a matter of fact," he says. "I thought I'd take you out on the town."

Peggy rather likes the sound of that idea; it's been a long day, and now that Steve's back, there's no reason _not_ to have a little fun, once her work is complete. Plus, Steve is already in his civilian clothes and Peggy can get ready to go out in five minutes or under if necessary, so they'll have plenty of time tonight. "Let me finish," she decides, "and then we'll go out."

Peggy throws herself full force into the report again, but after a few moments she notices that Steve is still lingering - in fact, he's made himself comfortable in the wooden chair which sits directly across from her desk. "You don't have to hang around, you know," Peggy says, as the typewriter dings. "This will take me a bit longer, I'm afraid." It's got to be rather boring, just sitting there while she types, and she's not going to make Steve wait around on her account.

"Do you mind?" Steve asks, rather sheepishly. "I like watching you work."

Peggy raises an eyebrow at him, and he elaborates, "You're very . . . intense."

Peggy smiles. "Well, suit yourself," she says, before focusing on her report again.

Peggy finishes roughly fifteen minutes later - quicker than she'd originally expected, but doesn't everyone work faster when they're keeping a handsome man waiting? She puts the report aside, to be reviewed with a fresh pair of eyes in the morning, and does a quick straightening of the items and papers on her desk. When she looks up, Steve isn't looking at her, but rather at the small sketchbook he carries with him on occasion. The sketchbook, which typically fits neatly into the breast pockets of Steve's shirts, had actually been a Christmas present from Peggy - she'd splurged a bit to have his initials stamped into the leather cover. Steve looks to be outlining something, and when Peggy cranes her neck, she realizes he's been sketching her.

Steve notices her attention then, and his cheeks turn a shade of pink that Peggy has always found rather adorable, although she hasn't told him yet because it will probably only embarrass him more. "Sorry," he says, sheepish.

"Don't be sorry, Steve," she says. "Can I see?"

He leans forward and places the sketchbook on her desk, and she looks down at the sketch and smiles. It's clearly been done in a short amount of time, but somehow Peggy finds that it looks better that way. "Beautiful," she tells him, as she stands up and rounds the desk to give the book back to him. "You know, one of these days, I'll let you draw me naked."

Steve gawks at her for a second, startled, and Peggy grins.

She's headed to the coat rack in the corner to fetch her jacket when she hears the noise dreaded by everyone hoping to make a clean break from the office - the phone ringing. "Damn it," she says. "If that's not an emergency, I'm hanging up."

"We both know that's not true," Steve says, amused, as Peggy returns to her desk to answer the phone. She rolls her eyes at him and picks up the phone.

"Yes?" she says, not bothering with any pleasantries. This is a direct line to her office; no one in their right mind would be using this line to call her up and have a chat, even if the normal work day is technically over.

Howard, however, has other ideas about what is and is not appropriate use of work phones. "Peggy," he says, sounding delighted to have caught her. "You busy?"

"Well -," she begins, glancing at Steve and readying a protest for Howard; Steve merely shrugs and then settles back into his chair, unfailingly patient. Peggy sighs and continues, "What is it, Howard?"

"You've gotta come down to R&amp;D," Howard says. "I want someone to witness what I'm about to do."

"Well, get your secretary to witness it, then."

"Can't," Howard says. "I let my staff have the week off."

"You _what_?" Howard may have the authority to do that, but that doesn't make it a good idea.

"I had to! This is a one-man job, very intricate calculations. No distractions allowed," Stark replies, with the slightly manic tone of someone who has been devoting literally all of their energy to one project for far too long. "Besides, this might not strictly be . . . allowed, regulation-wise. Best if I'm the only one who has a hand in it. But this deserves to be seen."

"Howard, what on earth are you talking about?" Peggy asks. From what she's managed to put together, Howard has created something - all by himself - that is either potentially dangerous or unethical. Peggy needs more information, and _now_, because she's going to be left dealing with the fall-out if Howard accidentally blows up half the building, or something to that effect.

"Something ground-breaking," Howard says, as if that makes perfect sense. "Come see for yourself. Trust me, you don't want to miss this, Peggy."

He hangs up then, and Peggy lets out a long-suffering sigh and puts the phone down. "Howard has something in R&amp;D that he's just dying for me to come and look at," she explains to Steve. "I'd better go, in case I need to talk him out of doing something incredibly stupid."

"I'll go with you," Steve says, rising to his feet. "I'd like to see what Howard's got cooked up."

If Steve comes along, Howard will be more inclined to chat and waste time, but Peggy decides against pointing that out. "Let's go, then," she says briskly, fetching her coat and grabbing her briefcase. "And if Howard blows us up with whatever he's got down there, remember that I love you."

Steve smiles as he follows her to the door. "You don't trust Howard?"

"I trust Howard, yes," Peggy says, stepping out into the hallway. "I don't always trust what he builds."

"Seems like you trust me pretty well, and he helped build me."

Peggy smiles at him. "He only helped size you up a bit - he didn't build you," she says. "You did that all by yourself."

They take the elevator down two floors to Research and Development, which is rather deserted. "Do they just clear out early down here, or is everyone already dead?" Steve asks in a hushed voice, as if someone could possibly overhear him.

"Howard let them all take a week off," Peggy replies, in a normal tone. "Besides, I'm sure we'd have heard some sort of explosion or something on the way down if he'd already done it. Whatever _it_ is."

"I'm glad you have such faith in me," Howard says, appearing suddenly at the end of the corridor. He looks predictably disheveled - his hair is an absolute mess, his white lab coat is splattered with what looks like grease, and there are dark circles under his eyes. "Steve! I didn't know you were back. Come on, this way."

Steve and Peggy follow him to the lab, which is currently in a state of disarray. In the middle of the room is a large contraption - it doesn't look especially dangerous, but Peggy is still rather wary of it. "What is that?" she asks, as Howard beams proudly at the machine.

"A teleportation machine," Howard says.

"Teleportation," Peggy repeats, skeptically. Just when she thought she'd heard it all.

"Yes. With this machine, I'll be able to switch the position of two objects. Small objects, for now, but I'll work up to bigger things, and longer distances." From a messy lab table nearby, Howard retrieves two apples - one red, one green. "Trust me, you guys are gonna want to see this."

Peggy supposes she ought to find it endearing that Howard is so keen to share his invention with them, but mostly she just wonders how crushed he's going to be if he's done all this hard work for nothing. Nevertheless, she and Steve are already here, so they might as well watch. "Just give me a minute, and I'll have her ready," Howard says, as he places the apples on opposite lab tables and starts adjusting the positions of two large, conical appendages on the machine.

Once he seems satisfied with their placement, he goes over to the central apparatus of the machine and starts some last minute tinkering. Steve draws in close to him, watching Howard fiddle with the levers and dials, while Peggy moves toward the apples (although she lingers several feet away.) On the off chance that this actually works, Peggy wants the best view possible, but she wants to be safely out of harm's way in the event of an explosion. A low humming noise starts emanating from the machine, and Howard says, brimming with excitement, "Alright, here she goes."

One beam of bluish light shoots out of each cone at the exact same time, hitting each apple. The humming noise grows steadily louder until Peggy has to resist the urge to cover her ears. Then, the machine starts visibly rattling. Still, the red apple is exactly where Howard left it, as is the green. "I'll just give her a little more power," Howard shouts. "That should do it!" The machine is making such a racket that Peggy can hardly hear him, but she nods anyway.

Howard tugs on one of the levers, and the two blue beams grow steadily brighter - and then suddenly, the laser farthest from Peggy gives a violent jerk, and the apple explodes. The laser apparatus begins to spin, blue beam revolving wildly, and Peggy hears Steve yell over the noise, "Howard, maybe you should power it down."

"It's malfunctioning," Howard shouts back. "I need to -,"

Peggy doesn't hear the rest, because the laser nearest to her starts to sputter loudly. Peggy looks at it just in time to see it give a jerk and send its beam of light in her direction. It spins so quickly that she doesn't have time to duck - she doesn't even have time to scream.

However, Steve is fast enough to beat the machine. Peggy registers a moving blur in her peripheral vision just before the laser beam hits her, and then she instinctively slams her eyes shut. A heavy weight rams into her side, and a pair of strong arms wrap protectively around her a split second before they hit the floor.

After that, everything is a bit blurry. All Peggy hears is the incessant rattling of that machine - she can't see, she can't move, and she can't make any noise of her own. And then, just like that, everything goes quiet. Peggy's eyelids still feel heavy, and her limbs are totally unresponsive, but gradually, she can feel her body regaining the ability to move.

Suddenly, a pair of hands are frantically shaking her. "Oh, shit," Howard says, his tone panicky. "Come on, wake up."

Peggy finally forces her eyes open, and the first thing she sees are Howard's brown eyes, his face inches from her own. "Oh, thank God," he says. "Steve? Are you alright? I don't know if Peggy's okay, but -,"

"What are you going on about?" Peggy groans, shaking her head weakly to clear the ringing in her ears. Her energy is returning much more rapidly now, almost startlingly so. "I'm not -,"

It's then that she realizes that the words coming from her mouth are not her own. Well, they _are_, but it's not her voice speaking the words. In fact, it's much deeper, more masculine, and a lot more American than she's used to.

"Howard," she blurts, "what the fuck have you done?"

Howard looks absolutely stunned - because to him, it sounds like Steve Rogers, whom everyone (except Peggy, who knows better) thinks is as pure as winter snow, just uttered the word 'fuck'. After a minute, Howard opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again, seemingly in shock.

Peggy uses the time it takes Howard to process this - which is a ridiculously long time, given his incredible intelligence - to look down and verify that she is, in fact, Steve. Or at least, she looks like him - she's wearing his clothes, has no breasts (only giant pectoral muscles), and there's an unfamiliar weight between her legs. She is also currently sprawled halfway on top of her own body, which is currently alive but apparently unconscious. She crawls off carefully, and a few seconds later, Peggy watches as her body slowly regains consciousness.

Peggy honestly has no idea where to go from here, so she just says the first thing which comes to mind, which is, "State your name and rank, please." She's not entirely sure what her body will say, after all - because Peggy is well aware that she's still _Peggy_, despite being in Steve's body, so who or what is in her body? If it isn't Steve in there, they may encounter some serious problems. Well, more serious than the ones they're already staring down.

"Steven Rogers," not-Peggy says weakly. "Capt-," He breaks off with a loud, high-pitched gasp, and claps a hand over his mouth (well, Peggy's mouth that he is currently in possession of), having apparently come to the same startling realization that Peggy had only moments before - that he is decidedly _not_ where he's supposed to be. Peggy watches as Steve takes everything in, gaze flicking back and forth between Howard and Peggy several times very rapidly. Steve finally lowers his hand a moment later, eyeing it as well (it's much paler and smaller than his own, of course, and the bright red nail polish is a dead giveaway, if the breasts and the voice haven't already clued him in.)

"What's going on?" he finally asks, and _Christ_, it is bizarre to hear her own voice but with Steve's inflections. "Am I hallucinating?"

"I'm afraid not," Peggy says, "unless we're all sharing the same hallucination."

Steve studies her for a second, and then says, "Peggy? Are you -?"

"You?" she finishes for him. "Yes."

"Oh, good God," Steve says, a pained and confused expression on his face.

"What the hell is going on?" Howard finally says. He's been staring at the both of them, slack-jawed, for the past few minutes.

Peggy rounds on him, then, rising instinctively to her full height - which is now _Steve's_ full height (a not insignificant stature.) "You tell us!" she snaps. "What did that bloody machine of yours do to us?"

Howard stands up, too, pausing to offer a hand to Steve - Peggy supposes she should have done that, but she's honestly too angry and confused to care at the moment. "I don't know," Howard says, making an aborted, jerky gesture with his hands. "But I can only assume that if _you're_ Steve - and Steve is _you_ \- then my machine did work, just . . . not the way I intended -,"

"Are we stuck like this?" Steve asks, reaching up to absently rub the back of his neck, a gesture of his that seems incredibly out of place when he looks like Peggy.

"I don't know," Howard admits. "I'd need to run tests and repair my machine, and then I could try to change you back, but I can't say -,"

"_Try_?" Peggy repeats. "You've _got _to fix this, Howard, or so help me -," She doesn't even bother finishing the threat; she's too angry to be creative right now, so she's better off letting Howard's imagination run wild with the possibilities. She and Steve had been _so_ close to their night out, Peggy thinks - if only they'd been five minutes faster in leaving her office, they wouldn't be in this mess right now.

Howard gives her a wide-eyed look, then glances at Steve and says, "You know, it's a good thing she's not Captain America. She's intimidating as all hell when she's normal-sized, but when she's _your_ size, she's downright terrifying."

They spend the next two hours sitting on lab stools and watching Howard attempt to fix his machine. There's very little talking - neither Steve or Peggy is feeling particularly chatty, and Howard is too busy muttering numbers at himself to talk to them. At one point, however, she notices Steve fidgeting nervously with the hem of Peggy's skirt, attempting to discreetly tug it down. Peggy can't help but smile a bit at that, even though the situation has yet to become particularly funny to her.

"Something wrong, soldier?" she asks in a low voice. "Is my skirt too short?"

"No, of course not," Steve says, shaking his head. "I've just never worn one before, obviously, and it's . . . different. I like it on you, though. Well, it _is_ on you, but - you know what I mean."

Peggy chuckles a little bit at that. "You know, this is honestly the strangest thing that's ever happened to me," she says. "Hearing you talk, and knowing that it's you, but with my voice - it's mind-boggling." That's probably the weirdest part of it all, but being in Steve's body herself is incredibly odd, of course. Every word she speaks is deeper, rumbling up from lower in her chest than she's used to, and she's quite a bit taller than before. And the sheer amount of _power_ Steve has is incredible - with even the slightest movement Peggy can feel well-defined muscles rippling. She feels the need to be careful with anything and everything she touches, like she might lose control of Steve's strength for a moment and ruin something.

"Trust me," Steve says wryly, "the feeling is mutual."

Across the room, Howard startles them both by dropping a wrench on his foot and letting out a violent stream of swear words. He looks exhausted, Peggy notes - no doubt he's been awake for the majority of the past several days, too excited about his invention to even contemplate sleep, and now the lack of good rest is finally catching up with him, making him cantankerous and prone to mistakes. Such is Howard's way, and finally, Peggy takes pity on him and says, "Howard, why don't we just call it a night?"

He shakes his head. "No," he says, "I can fix this, I promise. The solution's just out of my reach. I _know_ it."

Peggy sighs. "You're exhausted, Howard. And frankly, so am I." Well, mentally she feels exhausted. Physically, it would probably take a lot more than a blast from a laser to make Steve's body tired. "Steve and I can handle a night like this. Just promise me you'll work on things in the morning, when you've had a decent night's sleep." If Howard can't fix them by then, things are going to start getting even worse than they already are.

Howard looks like he wants to argue, but Steve chimes in with, "She's right, Howard. We'll be okay for one night."

Howard finally acquiesces, and Steve and Peggy gather their respective things and leave him behind to lock up the lab. Once they're in the elevator and well out of earshot of Howard, Steve gives her a mournful look. "Guess this means our plans will have to wait," he says. He sounds far more disappointed than even Peggy feels, and she'd been looking forward to going out right up until it finally began to sink in that they'd be stuck like this for longer than a few minutes. But both she and Steve seem to have come to the same conclusion - even if they'd really wanted to go out like this, it's not a good idea to be in public right now. There's too much of a chance they might slip up and do something to draw attention to themselves, which could cause a scene that neither of them really wants to deal with, especially if someone recognizes Captain America. They'll have to wait.

Nevertheless, Peggy hates to hear Steve sound so dejected, even when he is speaking with her voice. "There'll be another chance," she says, smiling as reassuringly as she can. "In fact, as soon as Howard fixes us, we'll go dancing. Deal?"

Steve nods, although he looks rather lost in thought until they leave the elevator. Fortunately, it's after typical work hours - at least for the office staff - so they don't run into anyone who might want to stop and chat while they're leaving the building. By mutual agreement, they head to Peggy's flat. Dinner together sounds nice enough, even if it is under particularly strange circumstances.

Bringing Steve back to her apartment is always interesting, mostly because Peggy has the supreme misfortune of being next-door neighbor to an elderly woman with nothing better to do than keep an eye out for anything she feels is morally inappropriate. Recently, she'd caught Steve leaving Peggy's flat in the morning (and that, of course, has only one implication), and she'd apparently given him a look so dirty that Steve had started apologizing on the spot, as if he'd just been caught committing a capital offense as opposed to leaving his steady girlfriend's home. This time they're lucky, although Peggy's fairly certain that if they'd been caught this time, Captain America wouldn't have taken the old bird's judgment lying down - because right now, Peggy is technically Captain America, and she's dealt with plenty of old birds before.

As soon as they're safely inside, Steve kicks off Peggy's heels and says, "Good Lord. I don't know how you _do_ it."

"They're not so bad," Peggy says mildly. Without the heels on, the height difference between the two of them is particularly apparent, and it's especially strange since their roles have technically been reversed. Peggy has actually managed to forget what it's like to be taller than Steve in the time since his transformation.

"It's like walking on stilts," Steve says. "Your body seems to think it's easy. But my mind says otherwise."

"My body has had years of practice," Peggy reminds him, as she sheds Steve's coat and hangs it up by the door. "You haven't."

Steve follows her out of the foyer and towards the kitchen, and says, "If I end up stuck inside your body, you might have to invest in something without heels. For my sake." Peggy raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve quickly adds, "Still, there's not any other woman I'd rather be inside."

Peggy can't help it - she lets out a loud snort of laughter at that, and Steve immediately realizes exactly what he's said and sputters, "That's not what I - well, it is - you know what I meant."

"I know," Peggy says, trying to hold in her snickering and failing rather miserably. "But rest assured, Steve, I don't mind having you inside me, either."

Steve starts laughing too, and just like that, they've got back their usual rapport - all lingering awkwardness about being inside each other's bodies is gone. They make dinner together, as per usual, and after they've eaten they end up on the couch together, with Steve listening to the day's news on the radio and Peggy reading. Her book looks a lot smaller in Steve's hands than it does in her own, but she's slowly starting to adjust to being suddenly much bigger than before.

She's fairly into her book when Steve shifts to change the radio station, and it's only when he leans away that she notices how they've arranged themselves on the couch - the same way they always do when they're alone like this, with Peggy against Steve's side, tucked under his arm - only now their roles are reversed. Peggy can't help but chuckle about that.

"What?" Steve asks, glancing over at her and smiling slightly.

"Nothing," she says. "Just wondering - how does it feel to be the smaller one?"

"Just like old times," Steve says dryly.

Peggy smiles at him affectionately, and pulls him in close again. Steve can't be serious for long, not when he's being cuddled by - well, by himself. He rests his head against Peggy's chest and says quietly, "You know, this isn't as strange as it should be."

"I know," Peggy says. "Perhaps our bodies just know how this whole thing is supposed to work, even if we don't." Mentally, she knows that this is bizarre, and even if she's stuck like this for an extended period of time, she'll never feel normal, but she's content right now. She feels relaxed and calm - the way she would in her own body if she had Steve nearby. Steve's body knows her own, knows that she represents safety and love to him - like they're connected on even the most basic of levels.

That thought gives Peggy an idea, and while she's initially rather hesitant to pursue it, it's not like they have anything better to do right now. She shifts slightly until she's facing Steve and reaches out, cupping his cheek with one hand. Steve's eyes widen, and they're not the baby blues she's so familiar with, but there's something uniquely _Steve_ in them no matter the color. She keeps that in mind when she leans forward to kiss him.

He stiffens slightly, no doubt surprised, but after a moment he relaxes slightly, lips parting under Peggy's. When he finally pulls back, he's looking at her with eyes that are still slightly too wide. "What was that for?" he asks softly.

"Curiosity," Peggy replies musingly. It's not every day one gets the chance to kiss themselves, after all, and Peggy isn't the type to pass up an opportunity to learn or improve a technique. "Did you mind?"

"No," Steve admits, and Peggy kisses him again without any further hesitation.

They think of plenty of rather interesting ways to spend the rest of their unconventional evening in, and by the end of it all, they're both sweaty and much more well acquainted with each other's bodies than even the most experienced lovers could ever be. They fall asleep on Peggy's small, cramped couch quite without meaning to, and are woken at half past oh-six-hundred by the shrill sound of the phone ringing.

Peggy gently eases Steve off of her - a much simpler feat now that Steve is much smaller than she is - and goes to get the phone, lumbering awkwardly as she shakes off sleep and quickly remembers how to move normally in a body not her own. "Carter residence," she says automatically. "Peggy Car-," She stops before finishing that introduction, aware that announcing herself as Peggy Carter when she presently sounds like a man might raise a few eyebrows.

Fortunately, the caller is already very much up to speed. "Peggy," Howard says, without preamble. "I think I've figured out where I went wrong yesterday."

Peggy raises her eyebrows at that. "So can you fix us?" Steve sits up on the couch at those words, immediately alert and ready to go.

"I think so, yes," Howard says. It's not the absolute certainty that Peggy would have hoped for, but they don't really have any other choice here but to trust him.

"Alright," Peggy says decisively. "We'll be at HQ shortly."

She hangs up the phone without further ado and turns to Steve, who immediately asks, "So he knows how to change us back?"

"He says he thinks so," Peggy replies. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

There's a slight scramble to get ready, but Peggy's rather proud to admit that they've both undergone some of the best time management training in the world, so it doesn't take them terribly long. They'd have gone even faster if Peggy didn't have to pick out clothes for Steve to wear and fix his hair (well, technically it's _her_ hair, of course - which she ends up pinning back in a simple knot, more for Steve's sake than for anything else), but she doesn't mind too much because hopefully she'll be back in her own body soon, and she doesn't plan on looking like a mess when she gets there. After the incident with Peggy's crotchety old neighbor, Steve had wisely begun to keep some clothes at Peggy's, which works out rather well indeed in this particular situation. All in all, they make it to S.H.I.E.L.D within the hour, and they're in R&amp;D within five minutes of arriving at HQ.

Yet again, Howard is the only one on the entire floor. Today, however, he seems much more calm and collected than the day before, despite the early hour. "Hello," he says, looking up from a chart in front of him as they enter his lab. "Love what you've done with your hair today, Captain Rogers. Absolutely ravishing."

"Ha ha, very funny," Steve says. He glances at Peggy, and adds, "Not that it doesn't look nice, of course."

Peggy rolls her eyes. "Can we just get on with it, please? If I'm going to be shot with another laser I'd rather get it over with."

"Well, if you insist," Howard says, rising from his seat and beckoning them over to a couple of stools he's positioned in the center of the room. "Just curious," he continues, as he goes over to his teleportation machine and starts turning dials and pulling levers, "what does it feel like? Being in someone else's body, I mean."

"Strange," Steve admits, watching as Howard does some last minute tinkering with the position of the cones. It reminds Peggy uncomfortably of the day before, when the machine had gone completely haywire, but she swallows down her nervousness as best she can. "Very strange."

Howard returns to his levers and buttons, and on a whim, Peggy quickly reaches out and takes Steve's hand. Their stools are positioned just close enough that their linked hands hang loosely between them. "Ready?" Howard asks, as the machine begins its familiar humming.

Peggy glances over at Steve, who gives her a small nod. She answers for both of them, "As ready as we'll ever be."

Howard seems to sense the tension in the air, because he calls reassuringly over the ever-growing noise, "Don't worry - this shouldn't even hurt! I redid all my calculations and I found the problem. It was the -" He's then promptly drowned out by his machine, and before Peggy can indicate that she can't hear him, a beam of light shoots out of the machine and hits her in the chest.

It doesn't hurt, per se, but it is rather odd. She feels like her whole body is rattling, and it only gets worse as Howard slowly increases the power. Only a few seconds have passed before her vision suddenly goes, and all she's aware of is that blasted thing humming and rattling. She has the vague sensation of Steve's hand slipping from hers, and then everything goes black and silent.

She awakens by degrees, coming around much more slowly than she had the day before. It's a good indicator that she's back in her own body, because she doesn't have Steve's superhuman ability to shake off unconsciousness as if it's nothing. An even better indicator that she's back to normal is the fact that she's being cradled against someone's chest - someone big and strong and warm, who's murmuring to her, "Peggy? Come on, honey, wake up."

When she's finally able to open her eyes again, she finds herself looking up at none other than Steve, who looks relieved to see her conscious. Howard is standing over Steve's shoulder, watching her intently. "I'm alright," she says, as soon as her tongue stops feeling heavy and totally useless in her mouth. She's relieved to hear her own voice coming from her, even if it does sound slightly slurred due to her current condition. Judging by the fact that Steve is kneeling on the floor with her in his arms, she must have lost consciousness and fallen off of the stool either before or during her return to herself. She's more than slightly embarrassed by that, and therefore struggles to sit up and make herself presentable again as soon as she's physically able.

Howard keeps them in the lab for a few minutes longer - he insists on doing reflex tests to ensure that they're completely back to normal, banging on their knees with a small mallet until Peggy kicks him in the shin (mostly by accident.) After that, he lets them leave, but only with the stipulation that they immediately report back to him if something changes.

"I don't think there will be anything to report," Peggy says to Steve, as they make their way back to the elevator. It's time for them to go their separate ways - Peggy's got to report to her office, and Steve has other business to take care of. "I feel fine - don't you?"

Steve nods. "Totally normal." He slides his hands into the pockets of his coat then, and suddenly something seems to occur to him. "You said we'd go out dancing once Howard changed us back. Did you mean that?"

Peggy arches an eyebrow. "Yes, of course," she says. "Tonight's good for me if it's good for you."

Steve tips his head down to kiss her lightly. He pulls away just as the lift doors slide open. "I'll see you tonight," he says softly, and she smiles at him before stepping out of the elevator and heading to work.

Nothing major happens that day, which is unusual; there's hardly ever a dull day where S.H.I.E.L.D is concerned. That's not to say the calm isn't welcome, of course - Peggy might enjoy work and activity and prefer to keep herself busy, but she's not going to sit around and wish for a crisis to happen - especially not when she has a date.

She and Steve meet that evening for dinner and dancing at their usual place. Peggy likes Washington well enough, and she and Steve have quite a few usual haunts, but she can't help but dream of someday sneaking off to New York with Steve for a weekend (or even just for a day) and dropping by the Stork Club again. Still, as long as she's with Steve she's happy, and this night out is long overdue - besides, not even Howard can ruin their plans two nights in a row.

For all Steve's enthusiasm about going out, he seems to enjoy everything a bit less than she does. He seems preoccupied, growing more and more lost in thought as the night out draws to an end. Peggy can't help but be concerned, but she has no idea what the problem might be, and she's not about to ask him about it in public. They've always agreed that their private business is just that - _private_ \- especially since they're both in the public eye quite a bit.

They take a cab back to Peggy's apartment, and Steve is a bit too quiet during the ride, although he does hold her hand. She catches him looking over at her once, and asks quietly, "What?"

"Nothing," he says. "Just - you look beautiful tonight."

Peggy smiles at him for that, but her worries are not assuaged. After paying the cabbie and getting out of the car, they head up to Peggy's flat together. Steve is biting his lip and avoiding her gaze, and finally, Peggy can take it no longer.

"Alright, out with it," she says, her voice low to avoid attracting the attention of her neighbors as she digs in her handbag for her key. She feels no qualms about asking him here, as there's no one around to overhear whatever it is he has to say.

"Nothing's wrong," Steve says, a bit predictably.

"You've barely said a word all night," Peggy argues. That's not entirely true, as Steve hasn't been totally mute, but she knows him better than anyone and she knows when he's thinking long and hard about something.

It abruptly occurs to her that perhaps _she's_ done something wrong. She rarely gives Steve cause to be genuinely upset with her, but of course, she's not without faults. Perhaps something about being stuck in her body last night had put him off? Peggy can't imagine what, as he hadn't seemed particularly angry about the whole thing, but still, it's a possibility, and a worrisome one. She abruptly realizes that she's aimlessly feeling around in her bag as she waits for Steve's response, with no real thought of taking out her key, and she starts searching with renewed vigor, muttering, "I can't find the blasted key -,"

Steve reaches into the pocket of his coat, and for a moment she thinks he's going to pull out his keys (he has a key to her apartment, and she has one to his), but he doesn't. Whatever he's holding, it's small, and he's keeping it hidden in a loose fist. "I'm sorry," he says, and she goes still with one hand still in her bag. "I hope I didn't ruin things tonight, I just - I'm kind of nervous."

"Whatever for?" she asks, brow furrowing.

"I've just been waiting for the right moment to do this all night, but I think everything's right when I'm with you, so - just know that I love you, okay? I think I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you back at Lehigh." Steve's words are coming quickly, but his eyes are wide and innocent, his expression sweetly earnest. Peggy's already starting to catch on to where this is going, but when Steve abruptly drops to one knee, she can't help but gawk at him.

"You're the most beautiful, intelligent, and brave woman that I've ever known," Steve says, "and you'd be doing me a real honor by marrying me."

Peggy is aware that her mouth is open, but no sound is coming out. It's very rare for her to be completely and totally speechless, but Steve has always had a knack for beating impossible odds.

Steve bites his lower lip, then asks, "So will you? Marry me, I mean?"

It's the kick in the arse Peggy needs to get her brain functioning properly again, and she blurts, "Of course I will - yes, of course." She reaches out and grabs Steve by his big, broad shoulders, dragging him to his feet. She asks between overjoyed kisses, "You great bloody idiot, how could you _ever_ think I'd say no?" It all makes sense now - Steve's nervousness before last night's body-swapping incident, his disappointment about not being able to take her out, his reticence this evening. He's been worrying over _absolutely nothing _this whole time.

Steve laughs, half giddy and half lovesick, and says, "I never know what to expect with you, really."

She kisses him again, and he breaks the contact to say, "Oh. I forgot to open the box! Wait!"

Peggy does indeed wait, giggling and feeling like an absolute mess in the best possible way, as Steve returns to his kneeling position and opens the small black box in his hand. The ring is delicate and pretty, a modest diamond with a ruby set on either side. Peggy has never been one for expensive jewelry (unlike makeup, which she's quite fond of, jewelry has a tendency to get in the way, particularly in her line of work), but she's immediately taken with the ring, and she holds out her hand so that Steve can gently slide it onto her finger.

Steve stands, still grinning like a fool, and Peggy kisses him again. She fishes around in her bag without ever breaking contact with his lips, and finally - _finally_ \- her fingers close around her house key. She breaks away long enough to get the door unlocked, but before she can open it, Steve kisses her again. Peggy's attempting to urge him inside when a rather scandalized squawk nearby catches her attention.

Peggy can't even be mad at her old neighbor - she might make that sort of noise, too, if she stepped out her front door and saw Captain America like this, with his hair mussed from Peggy's fingers and his lips stained with her cherry red lipstick. Steve jerks away from Peggy, then glances over at her, clearly expecting her to handle it since it's _her_ neighbor, but Peggy just laughs, gives the woman a cheerful little wave, and drags her fiancé into the apartment.


End file.
